New West (7 page)

Jesse’s body held him, took him in, all the way to the base. He stayed there for a moment, listening to his heart thunder.

“Full of you.” Jesse wasn’t still, not at all. Not even a bit. Christ. The man wiggled and panted, and Ezrah could count Jesse’s heartbeat flutter around him. Made him crazy, a little.

He wrapped his hands around Jesse’s hips. “Be still, man, ‘fore I lose it.”

“I can’t. I’m so full, Ez.”

“You have to.” He held on, growling, and it felt good, the way Jesse’s ass worked his cock.

“Okay. Okay. Trying.” Jess stilled, body barely moving around him.

He could almost feel the bruises raising on Jesse’s inked skin where he held on. The heat between them threatened to sear them, to blister them.

Finally, he began to move, driving into Jess with sure, strong strokes. They got it going, got together with it, and he was flying, his body singing.

The air seemed to sparkle, to shimmer, and the drums were back, pounding in time with his heart. There was magic here. Amazing magic, a spark that traveled up his spine, exploding in his brain.

“Jesse!” His voice sounded as if it were torn out of him.

“God, yes. Ez. Please. It’s you. Really you.” A man shouldn’t sound so surprised.

“It is. This is beyond anything, Jess.” He was going to explode.

Jesse shuddered, shook underneath him, his ass a fist about him. They both cried out, Jess looking back at him, eyes full of wonder. Ezrah came then, so hard he saw stars, his body shuddering hard.

He heard Jesse cry, felt the grip on his needy prick tighten as Jess climaxed.

His vision blacked out for a few seconds, the pleasure too much for his overheated brain to take in.

He came to, wrapped around Jess, still buried deep. Ez drew a ragged breath. “Can we stay here tonight? Will they let us?”

“Uh-huh. This place is for me, so long as I need it. I’m one of them, as far as they’re concerned.”

“Oh, thank God. I need to…hold on.”

Jess held him, fingers on his skin. “Please.”

He nodded, staying close, loving the feel of Jess right next to him.

“Thank you, Ez. I wondered for so long.” Jesse patted his hip clumsily.

“Well, now you know, huh? It’s good.” It was good between them, at least. The physical stuff.

Jesse chuckled, the sound so soft. “If that was only good, I’ve been living wrong.”

“No, that was stunning.” He stroked Jesse’s back.

The drums were slowing, sounding as if they were a sleepy heartbeat. Thud thud. Thud thud. The dance was coming to an end.

Jesse sighed, leaning into the curve of his body. The trust there made him feel humble, made him want to avoid the inevitable morning.

Because tomorrow, this was going to have to be behind them.

Chapter Eight

The horse was going to kill him if the drovers didn’t.

Ez had been gone when Jesse woke up, and he’d finished the trade with the beads in his dreads. The drovers were waiting for him in the sunlight, and he knew he wore Ez’s marks.

“Fucking animal. The tribes will take anyone.”

“He’s trash. Boss needs him for now. Once we’ve dropped with the herd, we’ll deal with him.”

He ignored them, ignored the pebbles and stones that bounced off his leathers, his hat. Denver would come, and before that, somewhere to jack in. He could escape, just for a little while, maybe find a way to relive his experiences last night. His cheeks heated thinking about them.

It would be easy to blame them on the smoke, if not for the ache in places which had never ached before. Ez had given him what for, and he’d taken it all with great joy.

“Hey, Grounder.” One of the drovers kicked close, both their mounts dancing. “We don’t want you messing with the boss.”

He looked over, arched an eyebrow and offered up a rude gesture. No one wanted him messing with the boss, except for the boss. Ez had been damned happy to be touched and kissed.

“You asshole.” The kid’s face went red, and he reached out, but the sound of the foreman’s voice cracked as if it were a whip.

“You got nothing better to do than bother the Grounder, you need to find a new job, boys.”

Cyrus was a good man, solid, and Jesse’d proved over and over he wasn’t slowing anyone down. Jesse nodded at the man, who nudged the angry drover out of the way. “Back to work,” Cyrus rumbled, and the kid spurred away.

He didn’t say thank you, and Cyrus didn’t seem to expect it. He kept riding, eyes on the horizon. His brain was even busier, straining, searching for the tiniest spark. A whisper. A promise. Once upon a time, everyone had been connected. Once. He needed to find a place to get in the Flow.

His head began to pound from the effort. He had to back off.

Something dripped on his upper lip and he wiped it away, wincing when his fingers came away wet and crimson. Fuck. Just what he needed out here where everything was waiting to bite, scrape or abrade you. A nosebleed. He blinked when his vision swam. Nope. No passing out.

“Jesse? You okay?”

He blinked, staring over at Cyrus a second before he nodded. “Fine.”

“You’re bleeding, man. Like, a lot.”

“Too much smoke last night.” He staunched it with a bandana, head just fixin’ to come right off.

“Yeah. Looked like a hell of a party from up on the ridge.”

“They’re good people, once you get to know them.” He was welcome there, and he wouldn’t speak ill of the Diné, not for anything.

“Hey, I got no beef with them or anyone else.” Cyrus grinned. “That smoke gives a man thoughts, though, and I try hard not to think too much.”

“I hear that.” He snorted, and the act set his nose off again. Damn it. “It’s not healthy, that’s for sure.”

“Here.” Cyrus pulled out a snowy white handkerchief, which made him cackle madly. How did anyone keep a hanky clean on the trail?

“I’ll ruin it.”

“I got more. Better than a bandana or something. Cleaner.”

“Thank you.” He rolled his eyes. “Damn dry weather.”

He knew it wasn’t that, though, and he’d bet Cyrus knew too. The man had an old soul and those gray eyes saw everything. Still, soon there’d be a way in, a place to sink into the Flow, and it wouldn’t matter what Cyrus thought.

There had to be.

He was starting to get a little desperate. His brain spun, his thoughts too damned loud. Soon, he told himself. Soon. All he had to do was be patient.

That and not die from his ass in the saddle.

Jess chuckled. That was definitely going to be easier said than done.

Chapter Nine

“They’re dropping like flies, boss.” Cyrus sighed, tugging at his hat, which was never a good sign. “We need to get to the river and camp a few days.”

“We can do that. Especially if there’s shelter.” And whatever Jesse was needing. The man was the color of ash, eyes seeming to get bigger and bigger in his face. Ez was as worried for Jess as he was the thirsty cattle. Maybe more.

Cyrus nodded, grinning a little and handing over a cigarette, which Ez accepted gratefully. He’d given most of his tobacco to the Diné. “We’re making good time, what with the info Jesse got us.”

Jesse had found a route through a canyon for them the last time the man had done his thing, claiming old maps were still available on the Flow.

“We are. I’ve been pushing it. Just don’t let the herd stampede when they smell the water.”

“We’ll head into the banks, lead along ‘til we find a likely spot. Ground’s a little unstable here, and we need to watch it.”

Ez heard that. There was nothing more frightening, not in Heaven or on Earth, than when the ground moved under your feet, even if it was a bank giving way, not a quake. Entire generations had learned to fear it, knew the power the land had.

“We’ll find a place for Jesse to do his thing, see if he can discover anything.” Ez still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what Jesse’s thing was or how it worked, but it was important. They hadn’t had an ambush since Jess signed on to the drive, and it wasn’t because Chastain’s men weren’t still behind them. No, it was because Jess knew the defensible camps, the direction to turn when the land threw up a roadblock.

Ez couldn’t be more proud of the man. He knew it wasn’t easy, riding, having the boys steal potshots at every opportunity. Jess didn’t complain a bit, though, just took it, closed-mouthed. If he searched the horizon obsessively and got skinnier every day, well, Ez wasn’t saying a word.

They turned west, looking toward the trees which promised water. The cattle knew it was coming, too, starting to jostle and bump, the head cow lowing for her herd.

The boys did their job, cutting the herd off, slowing them down. Couldn’t let them get going too fast or they’d lose more cattle in the trampling.

Jesse came riding up beside him. “What’s up, Ez?”

“We’re gonna water for a few days. We’re losing too much stock.”

“Oh. Water is good. There should be some places close. The lines by the water tend to be okay. Maybe.” Jess made a face, rubbing at his nose, which looked a little raw.

“Yeah? I never know. Last time you were in a cave.” He’d had to call to Jess repeatedly, had almost smacked him to wake him from the floating thing.

“Underground is always best. Always. I’ll head up the ridge and look at the formations.”

“Be careful.” He hadn’t convinced Jesse to carry a gun, and the drovers were the least of what was out to get Jess in the damned desert.

“No one wants to play with me anymore. They’re afraid I’ll eat them.”

“Yeah? Will you?” Ez could imagine Jess chomping his way through a few drovers.

“Nope.” Jesse’s eyes twinkled. “You? Maybe.”

“Mmm.” He was afraid to say much more. He’d just babble. The idea of Jesse devouring him was far more appealing than his earlier image.

He got a wink, a chuckle. “I’ll leave the horse with you and walk up on foot. I’ll leave a red marker if I go underground.”

“Okay.” His fingers itched to touch Jesse just in case, but he didn’t reach out. People were watching. This entire situation was grating him like cheese.

“See you.” Jesse slipped down, took his bag, and headed up the ridge, the drovers turning to watch him go.

Ez frowned at each and every one of them in turn. “Y’all let him be.”

“He ain’t right, boss. He’s evil.”

His Jesse? Evil? Nonsense. Ez shook his head. “I know y’all don’t understand him, but I’ve known him for years. Since we was kids.”

Jesse was different, he’d admit that. But the man was here, just because Ez had asked. There was nothing bad in his bones.

One of the boys spat. “We don’t hold with Grounders, boss.”

“You either leave the man alone or go. I done told you. Remember, before I called for him, they were picking us off. They haven’t touched us since, have they?”

He got a sullen look or two, but no one said another word. They all needed this job, and Ezrah knew it.

His eyes went to the ridge, but Jesse was nowhere to be seen. Worry tugged at him, but he had to get the herd to the water. He didn’t have time to go find Jess.

The man had been taking care of himself for a long time.

* * * *

Jesse found a narrow crack in the earth, more a burrow than a cave, but the hum was there. Once he wiggled down in, he slipped into the Flow, the immediate relief of the pain in his head making him sob.

As soon as he jacked in he knew something momentous had happened. Everything battered against him, information pouring in at an alarming rate. He shook, his fingers digging into his palms. God, just slow down. He couldn’t separate anything.

There were alarms everywhere. Warnings. Klaxons. Earthquakes in the east, reported in the north. Every damned place in what was left of their continent.

Fuck.

Fuck a duck. Quakes. They were in so much trouble. The world was collapsing again.

“Ez.” Jesse groaned, trying to find his way back to his body so he could warn Ezrah, so he could get out of the earth before it caved in. “Ez. Ez, love.”

He was too late. The dirt and rocks around him began to move, rumbling, shaking. Little lights flashed in front of his eyes, the balance of electricity and air shifting.

He scrambled, the entire world flaring into blinding light, so bright.

Too bright.

His head throbbed, his skull squeezing his brain as if he were a lime and someone was making a margarita. In Hell.

Heat bloomed behind his ear and suddenly he was in his body, screaming as the world churned. He flailed out with his hands, trying to ward off whatever was coming for him, but he couldn’t stop the force that seemed to be tearing his head off.

The lights got brighter and brighter, burning into his brain, flashing white before he slumped to the ground, and the universe went black.

* * * *

At first, Ezrah thought the rumbling was the herd heading for the water. They would run the last hundred yards or so. The trick was to control the lead cow, keep the pace manageable. Otherwise you were fucked.

One look at the front of the herd told him there was more to it. Then he saw Cyrus, riding hell bent for leather up the column toward him, waving his hat.

“Boss! Ezrah! It’s a shaker!” Cyrus hooted and hollered, sounding the alarm.

“Shit. Up! Up, boys! Climb!” The rocks were tumbling down from the ridge, slow now, but it would get worse, and fast. The canyon wasn’t safe for the men or the horses.

The drovers all froze for a few seconds. Then Ezrah slapped his mare on the butt and up the bluff they went, showing the boys what to do. Gravity was working against them. He urged her on with his feet and his words. “Go! Go! Come on, girl!”

His mare dug in, her powerful hindquarters churning, digging through the scrub. He leaned up on her neck, giving her more leverage. The earth moved again, as if it were a living thing, and Henry went down off his gelding’s butt with a sharp cry.

“Hold on, boys! Ride!” Fuck the cattle, he had men to save. Dooley reached down, pulled Henry up, dragging the man along the side of the mount. Ezrah made the ridge of the hill, looked down as the ground itself shuddered and rolled, rocks and boulders making dust on their way to the water.